


You're moving me around you (I said darling hold me)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Series: Sterek Bingo 2k19 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Beta Derek Hale, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, M/M, POV Derek Hale, Touch-Starved, cuddle therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 18:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18674803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: Derek is the only beta in a pack of two, blaming himself for the loss of their entire family. When his sister pays someone to get him used to human contact again, Derek preps himself for a couple unwilling handshakes before he kicks the stranger out of his den. Stiles is... not what Derek expected.





	You're moving me around you (I said darling hold me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [christinesficrecs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinesficrecs/gifts).



> For Sterek bingo, Derek Hale deserves nice things. (And Stiles Stilinski is a nice thing)
> 
> Title from Hold Me by the incredibly talented (and lovely) Daniel Docherty. 
> 
> Warning: Kate Argent is never actually in the fic, but her effect on Derek is mentioned throughout. 
> 
> Thanks to all the talented writers on the Discord who talked me off a fic ledge this Camp NaNo.

**** The first time Laura mentioned Cuddle Bugs, he’d thought she was joking, and he told her so, rather sternly. The second time he thought she was taking the joke too far. The third time his sister smacked him in the face with a professional looking flyer and laughed at the paper cut that briefly showed up over his nose. 

Because that was the kind of person Laura Hale was - the most fierce (and violent) Alpha wolf he’d ever met. Violence was how she showed affection, which was why he would have been bruised all over if it hadn’t been for the whole werewolf thing. 

Even the paper cut healed almost instantly. And apparently those tended to linger on humans - not that he would know. He didn’t really interact with many humans, not on purpose. Not for any meaningful amount of time. 

He worked from home, keeping in touch with clients over email and occasionally by phone. He picked up his groceries from several different stores, never at set times, because he was paranoid about people knowing how much food he bought for a one-person household. Well, a one-werewolf household, which had a different kind of requirements. 

But he didn’t want to stand out. He couldn’t risk anyone finding out - not after what happened the last time he’d let anyone get close. 

It had been a decade, and he was still drowning in the guilt, refusing even the comfort of his Alpha. Laura knew, he’d told her about a year after they arrived in New York, a sixteen year old drowning in guilt. 

His sister had punched him - hard - and told him that the bitch would have found a way to do it regardless. Derek pretended not to smell the salt of her tears, and Laura pretended she couldn’t scent the anxiety, depression and disgust cocktail boiling inside him as she had him draft a statement accusing Her of statutory rape. 

At least they’d been able to get her on that one, thanks to deputy Stilinski - who apparently was the Sheriff now. He’d fought for them, and seemed to know that touching Derek had never been the worst of her crimes. The evidence just wasn’t there for that part. 

And so they never came back, not even for Peter Hale’s funeral. The hunters had won that one too. 

Laura considered herself the well-adjusted one in their little pack of two. She had a normal job in law enforcement (known as ‘the human lie-detector’ by her partner and team), had a couple boyfriends and a girlfriend or two until she met her fiancée, and managed to live and love without serious trust issues. 

But then again, she was lucky enough to meet someone who already knew about wolves, a human badass born with a werewolf twin. Not even Derek could dislike Braeden outright, so she ended up being the exception to Derek’s no human rule. 

Laura was probably the more persistent of the two (which, knowing Braeden, was really saying something), and therefore the most annoying. 

“Please, Derek,” Laura brought it up for the fourth time. “You can’t hide alone in your house for the rest of your life. Groceries don’t count. You don’t talk to people, you don’t touch them - werewolves need to be touched. They need more than two people in a pack.”

But it was his fault that there were only two of them left. Penance was necessary, not forced human contact. Not cuddling a stranger. 

He’d said no to therapy, what made Laura think he’d say yes to this?

“You deserve nice things,” Laura was annoyingly persistent as ever. “You deserve to not flinch away from people. You deserve comfort. And I’m damn well going to make sure you get it, you fucker. That’s what big sisters are for - making you do shit you hate.”

Derek was pretty sure that was not in the general job description, which meant it was one of those annoying, Laura-specific traits. Of which there were many. So many. 

“Is that why you applied for the job?” He rolled his eyes at her. 

“I was recruited,” Laura outsassed him, as usual. 

And it hurt, because even though she didn’t mention any names, he knew that they were both thinking of their parents at that very moment. Talia and Samuel Hale did not deserve what happened to them, what Derek made happen. 

“Stop that,” his sister just knew what he was thinking. “I’m going to roll up a newspaper and smack you on the nose with it.” 

Like he was a dog - hilarious. She’d never threatened to do that before - not in the past two days anyway. For some reason Laura really enjoyed stupid dog jokes - which was why he refused to buy her anything that had chocolate in it. 

“You haven’t read a physical newspaper in years,” Derek absolutely used his eyebrows to his advantage. 

Laura hated how he could arch one brow and she couldn’t - something he used against her like a true little brother. Just like his superior height. Because Laura was the Alpha and therefore physically stronger, he had to use the small advantages he still had. Like looking down on her and having the more expressive eyebrows. 

It did mean that revenge was incoming. 

“Not all of us are Luddites like you.” 

And there it was. 

“My research requires physical books,” he motioned to the lopsided stack of books that was about to tip over onto the floor. 

It was one of many, and Laura had threatened more than once to throw out all of the stuff he could no longer fit into his bookcase. He’d responded by turning his attic into a library and leaving the occasional pile of books around to torture her. 

Laura scrunched up her face. “Books won’t keep you warm at night, asshole. But...” 

She trailed off meaningfully like the drama queen she always seemed to revert to when she was around him. He knew she’d been waiting for someone to stick around to keep him warm - or screw the sadness out of him, or whatever her phrase of choice was that week - for several years now. And he’d refused to let anyone in all that time. 

Because he’d learned his damn lesson. 

“No.” 

“You have options,” Laura grabbed at his laptop, typing a URL that lead them to a website he really did not want in his browser history. “You can choose if you want a man or a woman - or tell them it doesn’t matter who they send, like the true pansexual you are.” 

This was all ringing way too close to escort agencies for him. He was going to hire a person to get physically close to him? Even not considering his instinctive flinch whenever someone got inside his personal bubble - as Laura would call it - that did not sound ethical. It sounded creepy and too close to prostitution for him to be comfortable with it. 

Not that he was ever going to be comfortable with it. 

“You’re hilarious,” he knew that the non-existent skip of his heartbeat would tell her how much of a lie he thought that wasn’t. “But ordering a platonic hooker for your brother is not in the big sister job description.” 

So of course Laura was gloating over the thought that he genuinely thought she was hilarious - he did, when it wasn’t just aimed at him - for a little too long. It gave him a few precious seconds of distraction to maneuver himself closer to his laptop, hoping she’d be too busy thinking up a sassy retort to keep him from exiting this particular browser window. 

The site wasn’t bad. There were no awkward pictures of people cuddling, just soothing colors and straightforward text about today’s society and how people didn’t always get the comfort they needed. Derek didn’t want to relate. 

But he took too much time reading, enough time for his sister to recover. 

“Don’t make it gross,” Laura rolled her eyes at him. “This is a wonderful thing. They are helping lonely and traumatized people.” 

Like you. 

He could hear the words, even though she hadn’t said them out loud. 

And she knew he knew. “I didn’t mean…” 

“You did. You’re not wrong.” He shrugged awkwardly. 

Because she wasn’t wrong, no matter how much he really did not want to admit it. He was lonely, even though he didn’t actually want to be near people because of the events that probably could be legitimately referred to as traumatic. But if he acknowledged it then he’d have to do something about it, had to put himself out there again and risk getting hurt again. 

There was so little left in his life that meant anything. 

“I win,” Laura was swiping on the touchpad like there was no tomorrow. “You have a date tomorrow night.” 

How did she even manage to get that done so fast? She had to be taking some serious advantage of her werewolf reflexes to get all the details fixed so fast. She probably even filled out her credit card details. 

“Don’t call it a date.” 

His sister was a menace, but she was definitely an efficient one.

* * *

 

**_The first time_ **

The doorbell rang and Derek almost wanted to pretend that he wasn’t home. It would be easier in the long run, safer. 

But Laura was definitely going to murder him for it. And also, all of the lights were on so the mysterious person from Cuddle Bugs was going to know he was a liar, and they were probably going to judge him for it and not give Laura her money back. 

He’d checked. She’d used her own credit card, not his. For once. Guess they were both making progress right now. 

At least, for now. Once Derek opened the door. Which he would, any second now. 

In three, two, one. Okay, well, there went nothing. 

There was a teenager at the door. This was a child, some boy who looked like he belonged in a high school classroom, instead of getting paid to hug and cuddle strangers. He didn’t look older than Derek had been when… Fuck. 

This was a terrible idea. 

“Hey, dude,” the kid said. “You must be Derek. I’m Stiles.” 

What the hell was a Stiles? Was that actually a name? Was that a cuddle pseudonym this kid had made up for shits and giggles, like he was choosing a porn name? Like this was a stupid game? Like Derek was just a joke? 

He knew his eyebrows were set somewhere between Anger #5 and Judgmental #3, and that this particular configuration had been known to scare harmless humans off rather quickly. Not that Stiles seemed to be in any way scared. He didn’t smell terrified.  

“We’re not doing this,” Derek tried really hard not to notice what Stiles did smell like. 

Because this kid was looking at him too closely, probably wondering why a guy like him needed to hire someone to cuddle with him. Because Derek knew that most people couldn’t see past his looks - all the times he’d been hit on at the grocery store had told him that much. Well, not just the grocery store - which was another reason why he didn’t like leaving the house. People just made him really fucking uncomfortable. 

And it didn’t look like Stiles would be any different. 

The Stiles kid sighed at him. “Do you need to see my student ID? This looking young thing is going to be great when I’m like, fifty, but right now it’s a pain in my sexy ass.” 

Before Derek had the chance to say anything, Stiles shoved a piece of plastic in his face that claimed that M something something Stilinski (how was that selection of letters even a name?) was in fact twenty years of age, turning twenty-one in a few months. And even though the first name was not even close to resembling Stiles, the picture was right and Derek could guess that no one actually wanted to be called by that jumble of letters. 

“See, totally old enough for cuddles!” Stiles was triumphant, gloating like the immature student he undoubtedly was. “And no, Stiles is not actually my first name but unless you can pronounce that monstrosity flawlessly on the first go, we’re just going to stick with Stiles. If you’re still okay with me coming in. L. Hale - who I’m hoping is a relative, not a spouse, paid for several sessions, and it would be a shame not to get your money’s worth. Not that I’m trying to talk you into anything you don’t wanna do. Because at Cuddle Bugs we are not about that life.” 

This kid - this man - was not going to stop talking, was he?

At least Derek didn’t have to worry about filling any awkward silences, because Stiles was going to bulldoze right through any awkwardness. 

“Come in,” he motioned before thinking too much on it. 

Even if he let Stiles enter the house, that didn’t mean that Derek had to let the guy touch him. He didn’t have to do a damn thing, even though Laura had apparently gone completely overboard - as usual - and paid for a whole treatment plan or whatever. 

It was weird having a stranger inside his den, having a new scent that mingled with the smells of home and safety and pack. It was even weirder how Stiles’ scent didn’t seem to be a bad addition. He didn’t smell bad - even though there were hints of the scent of another wolf on him, making Derek want to reach out and rub off that scent. He didn’t want Stiles to smell of any other wolf, none but him. 

And wow his instincts really were fucked if he got that possessive over the first new human to step into his den since he met his future sister-in-law. 

“You’ve got a nice place, big guy,” Stiles let Derek close the door behind him as he looked around. “Little too meticulous for my taste, but I’m a messy guy by nature. ADHD fucks me up like that.” 

This guy was like a wolf, looking at everything and touching things just to leave his mark on them. But he smelled human, mostly, even at a closer sniff, with the subtle hint of medication (probably for the ADHD) and a lot of caffeine and processed sugar. It was completely overwhelming to Derek’s sensitive nose. 

Derek huffed a little as Stiles grabbed at a picture. That was too close - that was one of the few pictures he still had of his family. That picture frame had to smell of family. 

“Sorry, dude,” Stiles put it back down the second he realized he’d gone too far. “I have like zero boundaries, which is probably why this is such a perfect job for me. But it’s also why some people specifically request that the company doesn’t send me. If you’re one of them, no hard feelings, and we can totally get you someone else. Someone you’d be more comfortable with.” 

That just made Derek scoff. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he simply said. 

“How big is your martyr complex?” Stiles was definitely proving that no boundaries thing. “You have already decided to hate anyone coming through that door, haven’t you?” 

Stiles was not wrong. For all the progress Derek had made by just opening the door and letting a stranger into his house, he was ready to kick Stiles out the second the door closed behind the both of them. He still didn’t want this strange presence in his home, let alone anywhere near his body. Being touched? Even more ridiculous. 

Laura really had wasted her money. 

With a loud sigh, Stiles threw himself onto the couch. “I’m not going to force you to like me. I’m not going to touch you. I’m just going to sit here on your couch for a bit, maybe watch a movie. If you want to join me, great! If not, I’ll make them send someone else next time. Or we can do a money back type thing, for L Hale, whoever he or she may be.” 

It was weird how forcefully Stiles told him he wasn’t going near Derek, because he was getting paid to touch him. Shouldn’t he be opening his arms and making Derek get the cuddling in that Laura seemed to think he so desperately needed? Wasn’t that the goal of all this? Wasn’t this supposed to be exposure therapy of some kind? 

Where was the forced, prolonged contact he’d been dreading so much? Why wasn’t Stiles acting like the pushy humans on the street, like… Kate. 

If Stiles had been a werewolf, he would have smelled Derek going to the darkest places in his mind. But Stiles was human, so clearly he couldn’t know. 

Derek was going to have to use his words. 

“Laura is my sister.” 

He decided to sit down on the opposite end of the couch, not wanting to risk accidentally touching Stiles, and getting that scent on him. As is, he was going to have to completely and meticulously clean the couch to get the scent of human out.

Or perhaps he just had to leave it until the next time Laura showed up, so at least she’d know that there had been an attempt. That he’d tried to follow his Alpha’s orders. 

“Older sister, I imagine,” Stiles picked up the remote, not even looking in Derek’s direction. “It’s good that she wants to help you, and it’s good that she probably even told you she was doing this. You didn’t look surprised to see me, only vaguely disappointed, and I’m totally used to that.” 

Wow, that was a surprising amount of self-deprecating humor for someone who was hired to make Derek feel better. He thought that therapists were not supposed to make anything about themselves, and that they weren’t supposed to get dark. Stiles failed on both accounts, and yet it somehow didn’t turn Derek against him. 

“Don’t give me that look, Grumpy,” Stiles was rolling his eyes. 

“You weren’t even looking at me,” Derek rolled his eyes right back, feeling petty. 

Stiles laughed as he finally settled on some blockbuster movie that would undoubtedly have a ridiculous amount of explosions. Luckily, he didn’t set it at some earsplitting volume, probably because he wanted to talk through the movie. Stiles was a talker. 

Derek hated talkers. 

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Stiles turned to him, amber eyes reminding Derek of Cora’s beta eyes way back when. “I’m not here to make you talk about anything, but if you do wanna talk, know that nothing you tell me leaves this room. I don’t care who’s paying for this, and I have no shame so I’m pretty impossible to blackmail.” 

What was he supposed to say to that? Was he supposed to just reveal his life story and all of his deepest, darkest secrets? Was Stiles used to clients that just needed a little push and some cuddling? Well, then he had another thing coming. 

“You’re not much of a talker,” it seemed that Stiles was already adjusting his tactics. “That’s okay. Just thought you should know. Also, if you need me to shut the fuck up, just say so.” 

Instead of responding, Derek just stared at the screen. He’d rather focus on a random movie and learn to breathe normally with a stranger in the room with him than be dragged into a conversation he did not want to be involved in. 

“You can talk,” Derek didn’t even look at the other man. “Just don’t expect me to respond.” 

“Solid,” Stiles nodded. “It’s all your call. You want me to leave, I’m gone. You make the first move. No moves from me, no sir. I’m a statue. Well no, not a statue, I flail too much for that. My buddy Scott has had many a bruise because of my clumsiness. And for some reason he’s still my friend. Probably because he’s a harmless puppy who’s pretty good at forgiveness.” 

And that started Stiles off on an hour-long tangent of stories of childhood shenanigans, asshole teachers, crushes on beautiful strawberry-blondes that were never going to go anywhere, and a listing of all the Marvel movies, from Stiles’ favorite to his least favorite. 

Derek could have sworn that there was a story about circumcision in there somewhere, but he wasn’t so much paying attention to the words as he was using the highs and lows of the tales as a way to anchor himself to the present. It helped stop him from drifting away to bad memories of movie dates that turned out to be vicious lies. 

His muscles were much less tense by the time the movie was over. 

“That’s my cue,” Stiles briefly watched the credits roll before getting up off the couch. “I think I’ve put you through enough for now. If you want to listen to my rambling some more, I’m booked for several more sessions with you. If you’d rather have someone else, just contact the company and request someone else. No hard feelings.” 

Did he like Stiles? He wasn’t sure. But did he want to start all over again with someone who didn’t let him get away with just sitting quietly on opposite sides of the couch? Fuck no. He didn’t want to deal with someone who actually opened up his arms and pulled him close. 

Stiles was the lesser of two evils, probably. 

“See you next week,” Derek stood as well, not wanting to seem even more rude than he already had. 

“Dude,” Stiles stared at him with those wide honey eyes. “Awesome!” 

And then he held out a hand for Derek to shake, and Derek froze. He just gawked at the hand, trying to go over all of the thing that could happen if he shook Stiles’ hand. 

He didn’t smell wolfsbane on him, and Stiles probably wasn’t nearly as strong as he was, so he’d be able to get away if Stiles tried for something more than a handshake. And he’d be able to look Laura in the eye if she asked if he’d actually touched the cuddler, and he wouldn’t have t lie to her again. 

That might actually be the safest option. 

Stiles’ hand was colder than his - werewolves simply ran hotter than humans - and he had calluses in places Derek had none. He had a firm grip for a human, and Derek tried to gentle his in return. 

Derek counted to three and then slowly let go, looking away from Stiles’ ridiculously bright grin. 

There was an odd tingly feeling on his skin for hours afterwards.

* * *

 

**_The second time_ **

Laura had smiled for almost half an hour after smelling a stranger on the couch - and then she’d teased him about his own scent being all the way on the other end. Derek had flipped her off and ignored any stupid texts she sent his way in the following week, even up to the minutes he was waiting for Stiles to arrive. 

He was acting like this was a date, and it was stupid, because he’d planned out the rest of the night already. Once Stiles got here, he was probably going to put on another movie, and Derek was going to let him ramble on and on and on again. End of night. 

Derek wouldn’t have to talk or do anything he didn’t want to do. If it wasn’t too weird, he might even shake Stiles’ hand again. He could do that. 

That was something he could keep going for however many sessions Laura had already paid for, and then he could let it go. And he knew that Laura would not let it go and let him live his pathetically lonely life, or whatever Laura wanted to call the life that he was perfectly content with. This was just the way it was, and the way it was going to be. 

“Hey big guy,” Stiles was still all about the nicknames. “Still surprised you didn’t switch me out for someone more your speed, but I’ll accept that awkward compliment.” 

He smelled more prominently of another wolf this time, the scent of unfamiliar pack lingering on Stiles’ skin like a sour reminder of all the things that Derek no longer got to have. A reminder of all of the things Derek ruined, all of the reasons he could never go back to California. All of the reasons why Laura needed to hire someone to get close to him in the first place. 

“Come in,” Derek didn’t see the need for any more words from his end. 

“Alright,” Stiles took it in stride, stepping into the apartment like he’d been there a million times instead of just for one awkward visit. “You can keep doing that broody strong and silent thing and I’ll talk. We have to play to our strengths after all, and keeping quiet is not one of my many strong suits. And neither is modesty.” 

That was the punchline, obviously, and one Stiles needed a response to. Clearly his self-esteem was tied up in charm and humor, and that was how he managed to get the tougher clients to crack - or at least, that was what Derek assumed. 

It was a shame for Stiles that Derek didn’t want charm and quips and jokes. He didn’t really want anything from the guy. 

“Nothing, huh, big guy?” Stiles actually smelled vaguely of disappointment. “Not even a manly chortle. Guess we need the big guns.” 

The smell of determination was a lot stronger though, and Derek didn’t want any of this. He did not need another person seeing him as some kind of challenge, in the way everyone just wanted to be the one person he didn’t hate, the one to make him smile. His werewolf ears had overheard many such a conversation between baristas or grocery store clerks. 

He really did not want Stiles to add himself to the list. 

So he spoke up. “No.” 

And Stiles threw himself on the couch, just like he’d done the week before, only this time his lanky limbs were taking up quite a bit more space. He was daring Derek to do something about it, to throw him out or to lean into it and give Laura her money’s worth. 

Derek really fucking hated ultimatums. 

“Move,” he told the other man, eyebrows drawn tightly together. 

“Okay, murder brows,” Stiles grinned, the scent of victory wafting off him. 

Why was Stiles acting like he’d gotten exactly what he wanted here? 

“Oh, cool, you have other facial expressions than straight up anger,” those sharp beta-gold eyes were focused on him. “We’ll get you expressing yourself like a normal human yet.” 

That made Derek scoff, loudly, because there was nothing human about him. 

“Your turn to pick the movie, Grumpy,” Stiles passed him the remote, leaving it up to Derek to try and grab it without touching the human in any way. “I’m not saying I’m not going to judge you for your choice, but I try to maintain at least an illusion of options here.” 

Derek would rather just do some research or read another book, but he’d promised Laura to do better this time around. Or, well, Laura had made him promise as his Alpha, because for some reason she still thought that this was going to be good for him and for their little pack. He’d had to promise that he would at least progress to voluntarily touching the human by the end of this session, and to cuddling by the end of the five sessions Laura had paid for. He was ready to break that promise, no matter how many guilt trip texts she sent him. 

Another peek at his phone told him that Laura continued to text him. The last message told him that he’d better not be reading her texts while he had visitors over, because that was rude and they hadn’t actually been raised by wolves. 

Laura was the worst. 

“I don’t care,” Derek handed the remote back to Stiles. 

“Not an option,” Stiles wasn’t going to back down, apparently. “If you’d rather do something else, that’s fine too. But something is happening and it’s going to be your choice. I’ve already been foisted on you by your sister - don’t look at me like that dude, you clearly didn’t volunteer to be a cuddlee. That’s the professional term for it, don’t give me that sassy brow. So right now I’m going to listen to what you want. I know it’s probably going to be something along the lines of me shutting up and getting the fuck out, but still. Your choice.” 

Those words kept echoing in his skull like it was going to make any kind of a difference, and they wouldn’t. They didn’t. Because he didn’t actually have a choice, not if he wanted to keep Laura from giving up on him, finally, like she was supposed to. 

“Stop saying that!” Derek knew he was growling at Stiles rather than talking to him. 

“Why? Is it too hard?” 

Of course Stiles was the insatiably curious type, of course he was not just going to let Derek have peace for too long. Just that one session, to let him think that it was not going to be all that bad, until Stiles pulled the rug out from under him. Derek almost respected that courage - or at least he would have if Stiles pulled this trick on someone else. 

It wasn’t so funny now, now that he was the one locked in a perceived battle with someone who was basically a complete stranger. It wasn’t funny now that his old competitive instincts had been triggered, now that his anchor, his anger, was so close to the surface. 

Being furious would be so damn easy, being the monster she’d made him out to be, picking Stiles up and throwing him out. He could be the animal she’d made him believe he was and lash out at Stiles, verbally and physically. Once Stiles was gone, he could get his safe life back. There would be peace and quiet again. 

But the silence was painful, for once. He couldn’t not respond to Stiles’ taunting, could not let the other man have the last word. But anger felt out of reach as well - now there was nothing left but defeat. Again. 

“I make bad choices,” the words were hard to get out. 

As if they were torn from him, too reluctant to part with them, too reluctant to let Stiles hear them when he hadn’t even said this much to Laura. Not like this, not so openly. 

And not with Stiles staring at him so openly, staying quiet for once to let Derek get it all out. There was no empty reassurance, no consolation telling him that everyone made bad choices and it couldn’t be that bad even though Derek was responsible for the deaths of all but one of his family. If he hadn’t been a naive, pathetic kid. If he hadn’t been so easily swayed by a pretty face, and someone noticing him rather than preferring one of his many family members…

He was never going to be a leader like Laura, he wasn’t the baby, the precious gift like Cora. He was both too much and too little like his uncle Peter and never good enough to be his mother’s son. And he’d never had anyone just for him before, who knew all of his secrets and still wanted to be with him. Kate had been a really good liar that way. 

“Dude, I’m absolutely going to call you out on terrible choices,” Stiles broke through the awkward silence because there was clearly a limit to his patience. “I have a metric fuckton of opinions and you’re lucky enough to hear a lot of them. Doesn’t mean you have to do what I want all the time. You wouldn’t be nearly as interesting if you did.” 

Derek pointedly ignored some of the things he scented on Stiles, but he was surprised to sense that Stiles didn’t just find him attractive, he actually seemed to genuinely want to help. In the rudest way possible, probably, but still. 

So apparently it was up to him now, which was a terrible idea. But he really didn’t want to have to explain just why it was so terrible - because Stiles clearly hadn’t unlocked his tragic backstory yet. No one had, only Laura, because she was there. 

And that wasn’t killing Derek, that all he had was his sister. Only it was, because it was his fault and he was going to be caught in that loop for the rest of his life. Which he deserved. 

Fuck, this probably meant that he had to start the conversation, that he had to say what he wanted and let Stiles mock him. Like she had, whenever he said something childish and silly and naive - which was all the time according to Kate. 

But Stiles wasn’t Kate. He might be worse, he might not be, but he wasn’t her. 

“I’d rather read,” he finally spoke up, and waited for Stiles’ laughter. 

But it didn’t come. All he got was more silence, and he waited for several tense seconds before he finally dared to look at Stiles again, to attempt to see what the hell he was thinking at this point. 

Looking at Stiles didn’t help though, because Stiles had the most carefully blank look on his face and it was pissing him the fuck off. 

“Really? Kid gloves?” That was bullshit and Stiles knew it too. 

“I’m trying so hard not to be an asshole,” was Stiles’ response. 

He was still sprawled out on the couch, giving Derek less than a third of the couch for himself - if he didn’t want to be touching Stiles. And so far, he didn’t feel any urges to reach out, even though his animal instincts seemed more settled with someone next to him - someone who started to smell just of Derek and his home. It smelled like safety. 

That was a completely new and terrifying feeling. 

Derek rolled his eyes at the almost stranger on his couch. “Don’t bother.” 

“Aw, you really like me?” Stiles immediately returned to asshole form. “That’s adorable. Also, if you want to read you’re either going to need to read me something, or you’ll need to provide me with interesting reading materials. And yes, that’s totally a test. Fail it and I’ll mock you. Severely. It’s chilling. Really, you might not recover.” 

Read to Stiles? What the hell kind of idea was that? It was domestic, too domestic, and it gave Stiles way too much room to cuddle in close as Derek read.

Which was why Laura was absolutely going to tell him he should have picked that option, which was why he’d never choose it. Or would he? 

“A real Sophie’s choice,” Stiles was still incapable of keeping his mouth shut - and Derek wasn’t zoning out, looking at said mouth. “The first option will make you talk, but I’ll absolutely comment on everything, and the second option will give you blessed silence.” 

His place was always silent, except for Stiles’ weekly visits. And he was never going to tell Laura that he’d been thinking this, but he liked hearing Stiles’ voice ramble on about the weirdest things. It was unpredictable in the safest way, and the rumbling of his voice would make him tune out the rest of the world. 

Derek was hardly ever able to do that. 

“I hope you like historical fiction,” Derek picked the most dry of the five books he was currently reading from the pile next to the couch. 

“You’re an asshole,” Stiles grinned happily at him, smelling content. 

They made it through half a chapter, constantly interrupted by Stiles’ rants about inaccuracies and inexplicable tangents about something that was barely even mentioned in the original text. Derek stopped hiding a smirk after three pages, even though his heart was pounding in his chest as Stiles moved closer with every flail or passionate response. 

By the time Stiles peeked at his phone and realized the time, his thigh was half an inch away from touching Derek’s, and the warmth was soothing. 

When they shook hands again, Derek found himself almost unwilling to let go. 

Well, now his instincts were fucked.

* * *

 

**_The third time_ **

Derek had been pretending nothing had changed for a week now, and seeing as Laura hadn’t treated him any differently, he was thinking he’d succeeded. 

Until he actually opened the door to find Stiles without his customary flannel, grinning and holding his arms out to Derek. The weather had been getting a lot better, which explained the lack of plaid, but not the invitation for a hug. 

No, that was just Stiles being Stiles. 

“Stiles,” he said, not even responding to the invitation. 

“You are such a,” Stiles frowned slightly, trying to think of the perfect insult, “a sour… a sour patch kid? No, I have to be able to do better than that. Well, I’ll think of something. I’ve got a ton of time to work on it.” 

Did Stiles ever use his name? Maybe once or twice, but he usually opted for some kind of stupid nickname instead. That was clearly a distancing himself thing - or was it just a stupid Stiles thing without any kind of deeper meaning to it? 

Ugh, this was not a good brain day. 

“Just get in here,” Derek made sure Stiles saw his exasperated eye roll. 

And he made sure to ignore the pout he got in response. “No hug? No PDA?” 

So it was another meeting full of terrible jokes - as usual. Maybe he could convince Stiles that they needed to do some more reading to distract him from the jokes - Derek hadn’t managed to continue reading that particular book. He’d missed Stiles’ stupid comments and random tangents after half a sentence, so he’d closed the book after three attempts of reading that same sentence. He was getting used to Stiles, rather too quickly too. 

He tried to hide it by half-dragging Stiles into the house, before any of his neighbors decided to come out and attempt to have a conversation with him. He was sure the old lady next door was convinced that Stiles was his secret boyfriend - he’d overheard some supremely awkward whispers earlier that week. 

People were too damn nosy for their own good. 

“Sit down,” Derek ordered, knowing Stiles would do whatever he damn well pleased. 

There was a huff in response. “Of course, Your Majesty, Sir. Your Royal Broodiness.” 

Derek just glared, because he wasn’t able to come up with anything nearly as witty in response. And Stiles had already said that his eyebrows spoke about a thousand words - which was not completely untrue. 

“Look, dude,” Stiles always had to shatter the peace as soon as they’d established it, “as much as I love getting paid to sit on your couch and rant at you, that’s not why I’m here. I know I’m super intimidating, and it’s not like you could put me on my ass with just your pinkie, but we’ve gotta at least discuss a treatment plan. I know, terrible word, super clinical. But I think you’d like having a set plan. You don’t seem like the kind of guy who loves surprises, and while we can totally vary a little if you have a bad day, I think we need to set some goals.” 

Well, fuck. He wasn’t expecting Stiles to actually start taking this seriously. He didn’t want Stiles to take it seriously. He wanted to not progress, he wanted to keep living his life the way he had been until Laura started this whole thing. 

It was easier that way. 

“I don’t need a pinkie to put you on your ass,” Derek attempted to deflect. “You’ll trip over something and do all my work for me.” 

Stiles just laughed at that, letting him win for once. Derek had no illusions about how temporary his victorious state was, though. Stiles was never going to stop fighting, never going to stop sniping and being snarky about absolutely everything. Derek almost appreciated that about him. 

“You know me so well,” Stiles put a hand over his heart and batted his eyelashes like the dork he was. “At some point you’ll know me well enough to replace Scottie, though that’ll take about a decade. But at least you’re dedicated and won’t bail on me. I just moved here for college, I didn’t abandon him, that dork. He just had to stay close to his girlfriend. That puppy.” 

The puppy crack didn’t mean anything. He had to remember that. 

“So, college?” Derek found himself asked the very questions he’d always hated hearing during awkward small talk. “What are you studying?” 

Yes, he really did hate himself even more for that one. He’d heard it before, from Laura’s friends and ex-partners when they tried to get in good with him - and more often from a lot less relevant people. And now he was pulling the same shit on Stiles, just to keep him from getting back to the stupid idea he’d mentioned before. 

Okay, not stupid, but slightly and completely terrifying. 

“No.” Stiles lifted his chin, making it impossible for Derek not to look at his neck. 

And it was a nice neck, too. Very distracting. 

There was no clarification, no explanation to that single word. And so he waited, because if there was anything he could count on, it was that Stiles would always have something to say. 

“You can do better,” Stiles still hadn’t sat down, like he usually did. 

Was it even a usual thing if it had only happened twice before? It was weird to think about how he’d only met Stiles two weeks ago, and he’d only seen him twice. Stiles seemed… more than that, bigger, more significant even. Which was probably a bad thing. 

Derek really did not need to get attached. He always got attached to the wrong people. 

“Did your Economics teacher really recite the speech from Independence Day at a lacrosse match?” He found himself blurting out one of the many inane things he remembered Stiles talking about last week. 

Because he remembered too many things Stiles had said. That selfish Sherlock guy from the show he once watched with Laura was wrong about a mind palace and not remembering personal and trivial facts, because he hadn’t seen Stiles light up just because Derek remembered a random thing he mentioned in the midst of a rant. The rambling had started with Shakespearean tragedies and ended up when Derek interrupted the tale of the reproduction of anglerfish - because that was a line, a disgusting one, that Stiles had crossed. 

“Coach loves epic speeches,” Stiles sat down right in the middle of the couch like the little shit he was. “I don’t think there’s a classic movie speech I didn’t hear over four years of riding the bench. I was a terrible lacrosse player, and Coach did not get me, at all.” 

All that Derek needed to do now was wait for Stiles to get started on a random tale, and maybe he’d occasionally chime in with a comment or two, if Stiles paused to catch his breath. Which he did, once every few minutes or so. 

“I bet you were captain of the football team,” Stiles eyed him pointedly. 

“Basketball,” he found himself responding before he’d thought it through. “And baseball. Before we moved here.” 

Where was he supposed to sit though? He knew where Stiles wanted him to sit - on either end of the couch where he’d be pressed up tightly against Stiles’ lanky body. Because that would be the kind of progress Stiles could mark off on his little mental checklist. 

Of course Stiles had made a checklist. 

And of course Derek was going to sit down next to him, because he wasn’t a complete asshole and he didn’t completely hate Stiles. 

“So, I’m assuming there was a lot of ass-slapping,” the words came completely out of nowhere. 

If Derek had been drinking something, he would have absolutely choked on it and not even his wolf healing would have saved him from looking like a complete idiot. 

“Sweet, I was right,” Stiles took silence to mean truth, and he was not wrong. “Don’t worry, that was just an impertinent personal question that is not related to anything I’ve talked about before. I’m just glad porn hasn’t steered me wrong this time.” 

Derek had to keep a tight grip on his instincts at the mention of porn, because there was no way that he was going to connect that word to Stiles. Those two did not exist in the same sentence, no how no way. Shit, the smell of smouldering, residual arousal alone was extremely distracting, especially from up close. Too close. Within touching distance. 

Even after three weeks he had yet to find any kind of classification that fit Stiles. He was getting paid to be somewhat of a friend, but also more than a casual friend because Derek sure as hell didn’t worry about hugging anyone when he used to have friends (a long time ago). 

But since he was getting paid for it, and they were strangers just two visits ago… It was confusing as fuck, though the wolf instincts seemed to disagree on that. 

Stiles had to be closer, that was what they wanted. Stiles was safe, he could let Stiles close - which was terrifying and it wasn’t like his instincts had never been wrong before. What was he supposed to listen to? 

“Is it the gay porn that’s the problem?” Stiles’ voice was more pointed now. “Because I’m bisexual as fuck, and any stereotypes that come out of your mouth are going to get you blacklisted so fucking fast.” 

Shit, had he managed to offend Stiles with his silence? Of course he had, because he was what Laura called a socially awkward turtle. She’d even made the awkward hand movement that was supposed to look like a turtle - he’d called her an idiot. 

Not the point, he had to make Stiles understand. 

“Pan,” the word came out awkwardly. “I’m pan.” 

“Nice,” Stiles held his hand out for a high five. “Didn’t mean to force you to out yourself to me, buddy. Apologies. You don’t have to do that just because I’m part of the club. I just wanted to be super open about it because some guys act like assholes when they find out, because they generally think that bigoted, sweaty straight guys are my type.” 

Derek had gone in for the high five, like he was supposed to. And then Stiles said that thing, and he just snorted, like a total doofus. Stiles smiled even wider at that, if that was even possible. 

“So now that we’ve clearly dispensed with all the awkwardness,” that impish grin on Stiles’ face couldn’t mean anything good for Derek. “Hold me! You look like you secretly give good cuddle, and I’m dying to find out if that’s true. Or if you wanna be the little spoon in this arrangement, I have several testimonials I can give you to prove that my hugs will put the pep in your step.” 

His skin was almost itching, having the warmth of Stiles’ body so close to him without a single inch of their skin touching. All he had to do was scoot over a little, or even press his thigh to Stiles’, or lean the slightest bit to the side so their arms would touch. He didn’t even have to make an actual bold move. Stiles wasn’t asking that of him, almost as if he got it. 

“Stiles,” the name escaped him, spoken softly, gently. 

It was more of a confession on his own rattled state of mind than he’d been willing to make. But there was no way that he could take that back now, so he figured he should go with it and bridge those final inches between him and Stiles. 

A simple press of his arm and they were touching - Derek knew his heart was beating too fast for something so simple, but then again there was a reason that his sister had to pay someone to get close to him instead of him actually going outside and making friends. So he tried to keep his breathing steady so that it wouldn’t be too obvious to Stiles. The guy was annoyingly perceptive and he was already much too smug about everything. 

“If only we were watching a movie right now,” Stiles was ready with the joke, Derek just knew he was. “Then I could make my move. A little yawn here, a bit of a stretch there, and then my arm wrapped around those muscled shoulders like we’re back in high school.” 

Before he had a second to think about it (because he really didn’t want to think about his own high school experience), Derek lifted his own arm and without doing that stupid high school move, had wrapped one arm around Stiles. And it was terrifying and completely relaxing at the same time, because Stiles was comfortable with him, pressing just a bit closer so that he could pillow his head on Derek’s shoulder. 

He smelled only of DerekandStiles now, of the scent of both of them mixed together. It was something that should not work, but did, somehow. 

Terrifying. 

But they spent the rest of Stiles’ visit that way, with Stiles’ words almost whispered into Derek’s ear this time, more random ramblings that he would not forget a word of. 

“I think that wasn’t such a bad choice,” Stiles told him on his way out, after their now customary lingering handshake. 

(Derek couldn’t bring himself to go for the full-on hug yet.)

But for once, Derek believed that Stiles was completely right about something, without arguing about it for a little while.

* * *

 

**_The time that didn’t happen_ **

The company sent the impersonal cancellation message just a few hours before Stiles was due to come by. Derek pretended he wasn’t incredibly disappointed, and he declined the offer the company made to send him someone else. 

He didn’t want to be touched by a stranger, he wanted Stiles. 

Which clearly meant that he hadn’t made any real progress after all. 

Only just three days after the night he didn’t spend with Stiles, he found himself uneasy and unable to get his body to quiet itself. His skin was scratchy and tight, his chest felt empty, and the only thing that had helped was grabbing a pile of blankets so that he could pretend that he wasn’t completely alone on the couch. 

He’d actually gotten used to that little bit of physical contact he got every week. He’d actually gotten used to Stiles. 

“Laura?” 

Usually he called or texted before coming to see his sister, but he’d been uneasy for days now and he had to get out of the house. He had to be with pack, had to have some kind of human connection. He craved that now, and it sucked. 

“Well hello there little brother,” his sister seemed surprised to see him. 

She was wearing what appeared to be pajamas on a Saturday afternoon, which meant that Braeden was not around this weekend. If Braeden was around on a Saturday afternoon, Laura wouldn’t be opening the door in her rattiest outfit - they’d either completely ignore any visitors, or in an emergency there’d be a robe with nothing underneath. 

Sure, Derek had gotten used to family nudity - it came with the werewolf territory - but there were still things that he really did not need to smell. 

Right now, Laura smelled mostly of herself. 

“Are you going to let me in?” He had to ask, because she wasn’t moving. 

That seemed to snap her out of it very quickly. The gleam in her eye returned within seconds, and he knew that he had to resign himself to being made fun of extensively. Laura just got so bored whenever Braeden was away. 

“I figured I’d just leave you howling on the doorstep until I let you in through the doggy door,” she sniped at him, already back to normal. 

Laura really did love her dog jokes - he could only imagine what she’d be like around Stiles, cracking jokes like that until Derek had a heart attack or Stiles figured it out, no matter which came first. 

And now he was thinking about Stiles being around his sister. He really was fucked. 

“You don’t have a doggy door,” Derek looked down pointedly. 

They really did have a lovely house - he couldn’t blame Laura for using some of the life insurance money for that - and since dogs never did take to werewolves, Laura and Braeden didn’t have any pets. Even though Laura sometimes joked about them becoming old cat ladies together. Maybe because cats were mercurial and almost untameable and Laura was much more like that than the loyal dog she was supposed to be. 

It was Derek who always came back, even if a person hadn’t done anything to deserve it. He’d forgiven Peter for Paige, hadn’t he? 

“Come in, doofus,” Laura basically pushed him into the house. “Good boy.” 

He growled, even though he knew that just made her laugh at him. And yet, he still leaned into the touch, into her jumping up to pat his head like he was a dog after all. 

“I’m going to rip your throat out,” the threat had lost all meaning to his sister years ago. “With my teeth.” 

Of course Laura just laughed. He hadn’t even expected anything else - and since she’d probably noticed how eager he was to be touched, even mockingly, she was going to call him out on that one too, and cycle of humiliation would be complete. Shit, this was probably why he hated showing weakness in front of people. 

No, that wasn’t fair to Laura. She was the only reason he was still here and hadn’t gotten himself killed by the hunters as some sort of penance for ruining their lives. It was just that while Laura used sarcasm and teasing to keep herself standing, metaphorically speaking, and Derek had pulled up the walls as high as he could and just hid. 

Maybe it was the coward’s way. But he’d never been brave. 

“So, puppy pile?” Laura dragged him into the living room. 

She’d noticed, alright. She’d noticed enough to lord it over him for ages, because she’d been right and he’d been wrong and she was never going to let that go. Even though he hadn’t actually admitted to anything out loud. 

“It’s adorable,” she continued, pushing him down onto the couch with her superior Alpha strength. “Did your boyfriend cancel on you?” 

Ah yes, this is where the roughhousing started, because that was how Laura showed physical affection - to him at least. She prodded and poked until they were wrestling like the unruly puppies his mother had always told them they were. 

“The guy you hired to platonically prostitute himself was otherwise engaged,” he drew every droplet of sarcasm from the words, not caring how much he sounded like uncle Peter. 

Derek didn’t actually know why Stiles hadn’t been able to make it to their standing appointment, but it seemed rude to ask when he’d been on the phone with the random person from Cuddle Bugs. Most people probably didn’t care that much about the well-being of a random person who’d been by their house a couple times to nag at them and make them wrap their arms around them, and… Fuck, he should have asked. Not asking was the wrong choice here. 

Well, he’d fucked that up, like he did everything. 

“You like him,” Laura got to the heart of that comment too quickly. “You actually like the weirdest kid on staff. Kiddo - yes, I know, don’t call me kiddo - I’ve gotten several calls from the company to confirm that you were still alright with Stiles. I’m not sure that’s even a name, but porn stars have pseudonyms too, so I’ll cut him some slack.” 

Okay, the comments about prostitution were making him really uncomfortable, which was stupid because he was the one who started it - this time. But the anger was easier to focus on, as any anchor worth its salt should be. 

Because what was wrong with people that they didn’t appreciate Stiles? He’d rather have Stiles’ assholery than some honest politeness. He’d rather Stiles made fun of him all night than have someone who was scared off by his growling and the severe murder brows, or someone who treated him like a victim. Stiles actually treated him like any other person. 

“It’s just a nickname,” Derek rushed to Stiles’ defence like a gullible idiot. “His first name is impossible to pronounce - or spell - for most people. And he’s not that bad.” 

Laura grinned. “Which is basically a declaration of undying love, coming from you.” 

It wasn’t though. It was a declaration of potential friendship, which was stupid. Stiles was getting paid to spend time with him, he was only going to be around for two more sessions and then he was going to disappear from Derek’s life like he hadn’t turned it all on its head. 

“Maybe,” Laura was gearing up for another metaphorical big punch, “after these five sessions you’ll order some more yourself, so I won’t have to go broke helping my stubborn little brother.”

Derek took a pointed look around the large living room, paying special attention to the handcrafted furniture with perfect detailing, and the various knick knacks that Laura just had to have for some reason. 

“Because that’s a real issue,” he arched a single eyebrow, infuriating his sister. “I’m sure you’ll be living under a bridge in no time if you keep this up.”

That led to Laura punching him, literally this time, which led to more punching from both sides, which eventually led to them both falling off the couch and landing on the hardwood floors with a loud thud. It hurt, but they both healed quickly. 

“I miss puppy piles,” Laura pointedly wasn’t looking at him, even though he could smell the sadness coming off her in waves. “Braeden’s been working a lot lately.”

It wasn’t just about her fiancée being away though, but Derek would let Laura think that he actually believed that it was that simple. In fact, it was an orphan thing, a hole in both their hearts where the rest of their family used to be. Even after years of being on their own, that feeling never quite went away. 

And Derek knew that it never would, so he relished in his sister’s rare show of actual affection, getting himself covered in his Alpha’s scent and trying not to think too much of anything else. 

This was not a moment to think sad thoughts. 

“Hey Der-Bear,” Laura just had to ruin it. 

“Yes?” 

“I’m glad you’re giving Stiles a chance. You deserve nice things, idiot.”

No one ever said that Stiles was nice. Which was exactly what Derek wanted.

* * *

 

**_The fourth time_ **

The mutant flutterings in his stomach definitely weren’t butterflies of any kind. He simply refused to have those. No fucking way. 

It was just Stiles coming by, just like he’d come by for the past few weeks, with the exception of last week. And next week was going to be the last time, and then Derek was going to go back to his safe little life inside, without the feeling of lightning running through his veins and someone else’s warmth against his. 

Relatively speaking - no human ran as hot as a wolf. 

The doorbell seemed even louder than last week. 

“I am so sorry about last week,” Stiles started rambling before Derek had finished opening the door to him. “I overworked myself on a couple papers I had due, and then proceeded to crash and get a serious case of the flu. I swear I’m not contagious anymore, but if you wanna reschedule or switch to someone else, I don’t blame you. Though you were surprisingly loyal to my sassy self last week, which has definitely made my heart grow three sizes.” 

He walked himself inside the house too, just stepping around Derek like they’d done this particular dance a million times before. And Derek didn’t flinch away, like he’d done to a million strangers before Stiles. 

“Stiles?” Derek closed the door. 

The other man was still in the hallway, looking around and standing there awkwardly like he was waiting for something - or someone. Was he waiting for him? Was Derek supposed to do something now? Or maybe he should say something. 

Something like...

“Hi.”

And then he felt like an idiot, or just like even more of an idiot than he’d felt before. So he overcompensated like a true moron and just walked up to Stiles and wrapped his arms around him. 

He hadn’t really noticed how tall Stiles was. Derek knew that he was much broader in the shoulders, but they were usually sitting down for the largest parts of their meetings, so while Stiles sometimes looked tall and lanky as he stretched out on the couch, it didn’t register that it meant this. That it meant that Stiles’ not too spindly arms wrapped around him almost immediately and his breath puffed on the sensitive skin of Derek’s neck. 

“You are the superior hugger,” Stiles muttered, warm breath now on Derek’s ear. “You win. You’re so warm and comfy. Please don’t pay too much attention to my rambling because I’m clearly high on your cuddles right now. You should do this all the time.”

Was Derek smiling, almost laughing even? It was possible, likely even. Because it really was nice, having Stiles in his arms and keeping him close and safe from harm. It was nice having Stiles cling to him, trying to keep Derek as close as he was keeping Stiles. His heart was pounding but there was no pressure, and the hole in his gut wasn’t screaming at him for once. 

This was a good thing. Did he really get to have a good thing? 

“I swear I’m not on drugs,” Stiles pulled back just a little. “This high is all natural.” 

It was a joke, and a stupid one at that. Still, Derek was smiling, because it was so stupid and outlandish and he’d never met anyone like Stiles before. 

Endorphins - a powerful drug. Too powerful. 

Stiles was only making it worse. “Nice smile, big guy.” 

Okay, no, he had to let go now. Before he did something even more stupid, before he started thinking that this actually meant something. Stiles was getting paid for this, after all, and they weren’t actually friends. 

Sure, his chemo-signals didn’t actually tell Derek anything unkind - Stiles genuinely was comfortable with them hugging and he was genuinely happy that Derek was happy, but altruism and proud in a job well done were just as likely a reason as genuine care for Derek. 

That was a lot of genuine. Too much of it. 

“Well,” Stiles trailed off meaningfully and Derek just raised an eyebrow at him. 

What was he supposed to say or do now? The hug had been a stupid, impulsive decision that he really wanted to regret. But he couldn’t, because it had meant something to him - it was a positive thing now, but once Stiles disappointed him, it wouldn’t be. 

And people always disappointed him. Unless Derek disappointed them first. 

“Don’t you wanna get some sustenance before round two?” Stiles wagged his eyebrows at him like a total idiot. “Or at least sit down on that couch of yours? Or somewhere else? I’m not picky. I just feel like standing in your hallway isn’t the most productive use of our time together, even if that was a total life-changing hug just now.” 

Stiles’ heartbeat was all over the place, as usual, so it was almost impossible to read how much of his current ramblings was based in truth. Derek just scoffed at the eyebrow wagging and motioned for Stiles to step into the living room - he didn’t even know what Stiles was talking about when he mentioned the somewhere else. 

There was no somewhere else where they could just sit together. Not anywhere they could platonically cuddle a bit more - the bedroom was not conducive to keeping anything platonic, and Derek was not going to make Stiles uncomfortable, even though he’d previously smelled like he’d be interested. Smells did not equal wanting to act on anything, and with Stiles being paid to be here, it was too… unethical for his tastes. 

“Seriously, your sister may have given you the gift of my company,” Stiles of course continued to suffer from a serious case of foot in mouth disease, “but I feel like I’ve been given a gift as well, and wow that got sappy. Sorry, big guy, I know you hate emotions, I’ll reel it in.” 

And he made the reeling motion too, because he was a nerdy college student who wore graphic tees and complained about plot holes in superhero movies when he thought Derek wasn’t actually listening too closely. He was embarrassed about his nerdhood, and clearly hadn’t realized that Derek had a library in the attic that had a wide selection of sci-fi and fantasy. 

For a second, Derek made the mistake of picturing Stiles there, his excitement at the rare volumes and the way he was definitely making a Beauty and the Beast joke. He imagined telling Stiles about the wolf, and Stiles just telling him it made the comparison more apt - and preening at being the beauty of the pairing, because someone had ripped apart Stiles’ confidence and made him think he was lesser. 

And then the second was over and Derek got back to reality. 

He’d gotten just as caught up in fantasies about Kate, and Jennifer had seemed just as kind as Stiles was, at first. But Kate had lied to him, and Jennifer had not been who she seemed. Both had manipulated him - at least Jennifer hadn’t actually managed to hurt someone. 

It had been years since he’d thought of her this much. 

“Where did you go?” Stiles didn’t touch him, instead calling out to him. “Nowhere good, I’m sure. Your eyebrows are even angrier than they usually are. And that’s saying a lot.” 

Derek tried configuration Annoyed #6 on Stiles, and got no response. Stiles was already figuring him out, finding out how to read his face and moods. It was terrifying. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” his tone wasn’t as harsh as it should have been. 

Silence reigned for a while - at least, not even Stiles talked. Because the house wasn’t left in complete silence, simply because it seemed like the couch was moving. 

Stiles was practically vibrating in his seat. It should have annoyed him, and maybe it did, a little, but not nearly as much as it would have a couple of weeks ago. 

“Stop it,” Derek huffed at him, even though he knew it wouldn’t work. 

“Sorry dude,” Stiles’ apology was half-hearted, as he immediately started to bounce his leg up and down as he talked. “It’s just that I haven’t seen my Dad in a couple months and he just told me he’s coming to visit me - he’s never been here. He doesn’t really get to go away much, because the entire town would crumble to the ground without the best Sheriff in the world, but he’s got a good team of deputies now and a shit ton of vacation days that they need him to actually take already. So this weekend, the Stilinski men are turning this town on its head.” 

Stilinski. He knew that was Stiles’ last name, from the ID he’d seen the first time that they’d met, though he didn’t exactly remember the exact monstrosity that Stiles called his first name. But he hadn’t heard anything about Stiles’ friends or family before - other than the occasional mention of his best friend Scott - and the fact that his father was a Sheriff certainly had not come up before. 

Because Derek would have remembered that. He would have made the connection sooner. 

“Sheriff Stilinski?” He tried so hard to sound casual about it. 

“Yep,” Stiles was all pride now, gleaming with it, “in the greatest yet weirdest town in California.” 

Beacon Hills. Stiles Stilinski was from Beacon Hills. He was the son of Deputy - now Sheriff - Stilinski, the only man in that town who’d ever bothered to help the Hale children after that terrible day when Derek came home from basketball practice to find himself an orphan, with no one left in the world except his sister. 

Peter was already so wounded then that he didn’t count, not to them. 

Stiles had to know - the Hale fire was on everyone’s lips, and even though Stiles must have been too young to have heard all the grisly details, he undoubtedly would have been involved in some way. He would have heard about Kate getting arrested and what she’d done to him - there was no way that the Dep-Sheriff would have been able to keep that quiet. 

Maybe that’s why Stiles dealt with him so well. Because he knew. 

The earlier happiness turned to ashes in his mouth. He could have sworn he smelled fire, even though there was no possible way that was real. 

No, this was all trauma and embarrassment. 

He’d been lied to. Of course he had.

* * *

 

**_The fifth time_ **

He just had to make it through one more visit, and then he’d never have to see Stiles again. 

Just an hour or so and he could go back to his old life, and Laura would just have to accept that he was not ever going to change. He was just fine on his own, and he didn’t need to develop any kind of relationship with anyone. Because he was right - no one could be trusted. 

Was it hypocritical of him to say that when he was hiding his furry secret? Maybe, just slightly, but that was actually a secret that was going to get him dissected in a government lab when people found out. If Stiles admitted he knew about Derek’s past, only Derek’s trust would have been broken. And that had already happened, anyway. 

He hadn’t told Laura about Stiles, worried that she’d do something impulsive and typically Laura like visit Stiles at home and threaten him to stay the hell away from them. She was stupidly protective over him, and while he never encouraged it, it did make him feel a bit more steady. 

Or maybe she would have said something about just talking to Stiles, but Laura really was the punch first ask questions later kind of person, so he doubted that. 

Sometimes healthy communication just got people humiliated, hurt, or even killed. 

Not that he expected that Stiles could physically hurt him - he was nowhere near as strong as a healthy Beta werewolf. But that didn’t mean that Derek couldn’t get hurt. 

“Yo, dude,” Stiles knocked loudly on the door. “I think your doorbell is busted.” 

Or Derek had ripped out a couple of wires in anger and frustration, hoping that a busted doorbell would deter people in general, and Stiles specifically. Though he really should have known that persistent Stiles was never going to make it that easy. 

Instead of responding to Stiles verbally, Derek just made his way to the door - more slowly than he usually did, because clearly he was a dramatic moron who had really been dreading this meeting. Shame he couldn’t call himself cured or whatever and just get Stiles to leave. 

Or could he? 

“Hey Der-Bear,” Stiles was grinning at him, clearly not reading the room. 

A new nickname, a more cutesy one than he’d attempted previously. Stiles smelled happy, eager even - so Derek knew where this was going even before Stiles held out his arms for another hug. 

An invitation that he had to refuse - because Stiles broke his trust. He couldn’t just get over that, he’d never been able to do that. Not for anyone. 

No matter the things that Stiles made him feel. 

“I know you know,” he finally let it out. “You should have told me.” 

That made Stiles’ heartbeat go all over the place, even more so than usual. So clearly he knew what Derek was talking about, even though he was probably going to lie and deny for a little while longer. Stiles was not good at getting caught in a lie, seemingly hoping that he’d find a way to turn the tables on Derek somehow and get himself out of this jam. 

“Told you what?” 

Case in point. 

“Stiles,” he growled, annoyed with the misdirect. “I know who your father is. Do you really think you could get away with pretending not to know?” 

The look on Stiles’ face told him everything that he needed to know. He didn’t even have to use his supernatural senses to know that Stiles hadn’t been planning to tell him. Not ever. 

“Yes,” Stiles only seemed slightly ashamed of that. “Or at least for one more session.” 

Right, because this was the last time they were going to see each other like this. Well, at least that was something that they could agree on. Derek didn’t want to have Stiles in his space like this, not again. Not after he lied, and especially not after he revealed that he never intended to tell Derek because he thought he could get away with it. 

Derek was through being manipulated like that, not having all the information he needed. It messed with his judgment - and that was bad enough even if he did have all the information. 

“Fuck you.” It was all he could say. 

“Look,” Stiles actually attempted to plead his case, “I asked that I be the one to help you. Because I know. Because I’d be able to avoid most, or at least some of the emotional minefields. As much as one can, anyway.” 

Yes, he could see how Stiles knowing had initially been an advantage, at least to the company he worked for. But it still left Derek at a disadvantage - he would have felt ill at ease with Stiles at first, absolutely. Not having to tell someone and still having them know and understand him? That was something he desperately wanted, even though he knew it was never going to happen. Things never did change. 

“My friend Erica was supposed to be the one to come and see you,” Stiles continued, not looking Derek in the eye. “But she’s a blonde bombshell who is super assertive now that the epilepsy has cleared up, and it didn’t matter that she is nothing like… I just couldn’t let that happen. You would have growled at her and sent her away and you would have never let anyone else come into your house. Well, that and… Don’t kill me for this, dude.” 

Well, that sounded like it was only going to get worse from here. Which obviously meant that Stiles was going to poke at his trauma with a metaphorical stick. So Derek steeled himself for the worst, gritting his teeth and trying to keeps his claws in. 

“I know more than you think,” Stiles dealt yet another blow to Derek’s trust in him. “Did you know that Scott has just gotten engaged to Allison Argent?”  

The growl that escaped him at that last name was inhuman. Stiles looked up at him then, eyes wide and reeking of fear. He’d scared him, and while that made the pit of emotions in his stomach open up again, he was determined not to quiet himself. He was not going to pretend he wasn’t hurting - not for Stiles. Not for anyone. Not anymore. 

For some reason, Stiles hadn’t stopped speaking yet. “I’m not sure you ever met her. She’s Chris and Victoria’s daughter. Well, Victoria died years ago, so Allison is the matriarch. Please let me finish, Derek, please. I swear I mean you no harm.” 

Matriarch. That was not a term that people who weren’t in the know used. But it didn’t make sense for Stiles to know - and if he did? He’d be connected to the hunters. To those hunters. 

His fight or flight response was triggered, and he was not stupid enough to fight an entire network of hunters with just Laura and Braeden on his side. Though perhaps Braeden’s family would assist them, or give them shelter somehow.

Stiles just kept going, staring at a spot on the wall off to the side. “Allison was the one who got her grandfather arrested. He masterminded the whole thing - with… her. He was an old man then, and he was very sick when I met him - he had a hell of a right hook, though. He died in prison, years ago. And she… She won’t get out for a long, long time. Because they put the pieces together, because my Dad and Chris Argent worked together to make sure that what happened to you and your family would never happen again.” 

That was naive. Pathetically naive, even. Because there was no way to guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again. Hunters could not be trusted - there was no governing agency, no one to control if the monsters they killed were actually monsters. There was never any proof required, never any concern about the people they were murdering. 

But then again, werewolves weren’t people. Not to them. 

“Stiles,” Derek didn’t know what it was supposed to mean, but he said it anyway. 

“I know.” 

“You can’t know,” Derek smelled blood, and knew his claws had grown into the skin of his closed fists. “How the fuck could you know?” 

He stared down at his hands and willed his claws to recede. Anger was an unpredictable anchor, but currently he had it in abundance, so he managed to pull back the shift. His eyes were probably flashing blue still, which was why he was not looking at Stiles. 

Just in case he did not actually know what he thought he knew. 

“Scott is like you,” Stiles just continued to reveal secrets. “Well, bitten, not born. You were born a werewolf, right?” 

And with the actual word being said, Derek knew that Stiles was in fact aware of everything that Derek had not said. It wasn’t just that he knew about the fire, he knew about the reason why, and he knew exactly what he was doing when he’d entered Derek’s house and touched everything to get his scent all over the place. It seemed calculated in a way that didn’t mess up with Stiles’ impulsive words and flailing. 

“Yes.” 

“Literally raised by wolves, holy shit,” Stiles teased, before realizing just what he’d said. “Oh fuck, that joke is in terrible taste, I am the worst. Feel free to rip my throat out with your teeth now.” 

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have. Or at least threatened them. He would have done something other than just staring. 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles went for sincerity over rambling this time. 

“I know,” he acknowledged it. 

“Don’t Han Solo me!” 

Stiles was delighted at the connection, even though it seemed to reveal a much deeper attachment to Derek than he’d expected. Something he didn’t even seem to realize, as he immediately went back to professional cuddler mode. 

“Last time, dude,” he threw himself on the couch. “Dealer’s choice.” 

Derek was amazed and annoyed that he actually regretted that it would be the last time. Not that he was going to order more sessions. 

He just let himself enjoy the feeling of Stiles’ long arm wrapped around his shoulders as they sat on the couch, finally getting on with the next page in Derek’s book. 

They managed to finish the chapter, at least. They’d never finish the book.

* * *

 

**_The sixth time (+1)_ **

It had been a week filled with knowing comments from Laura, playful punches to the shoulder from Braeden as the couple interrogated him about his future plans. They were disappointed to learn that he wouldn’t contact Cuddle Bugs, but hopeful that he’d manage to go out into the world again and meet someone without them being paid. 

Derek didn’t feel like telling them that was never going to happen. 

But then the doorbell rang exactly at the same time it did over the last few weeks, and he was stupid enough to open the door. Because somehow, optimism had made it back into his life over the last month or so - at least when it came to...

“Stiles?” 

Because it was Stiles at the door, awkwardly shifting on his feet as he looked up at Derek, those beta gold eyes filled with concern. He smelled of worry, fear and sweat (clearly related to the fear). Though the fear wasn’t the same as it had been when Derek growled at him so angrily the week before. This was more like… excited yet scared? 

He’d never smelled anything like this on Stiles before. 

“I like you,” Stiles just went for it, without another word. “I know I should probably have those signs like in the Keira Knightley movie, but I’ve never been the kind of person who writes shit down instead of speaking. So you’re getting the full story, foot in mouth and all.” 

Derek was not ashamed to know exactly which scene Stiles was referring to, because he’d seen the movie. He had two sisters, and even now Laura liked to watch Love Actually around the holidays - though not on his birthday. That was when he had veto powers. But only on Christmas Day. 

Because Derek hadn’t responded, Stiles just kept going. “I know this is super inappropriate, because I only knew where you live because your sister paid me, but I just wanted… I thought… I couldn’t say anything before, because it wasn’t fair to put that on you after everything we talked about and it still being a job. But I had to ask. I had to know. Because I still want to see you, even without the money.” 

Stiles actually liked him? Did he have the same mess of tangled up feelings that Derek was trying to deal with somehow? Because he did like Stiles, liked his presence as well as liking him in a less than platonic way. Even though it was all messed up because of the whole, paying for cuddling, thing. That was not a good place to start, probably. 

“This is coming out all wrong,” Stiles’ movements got increasingly frantic. “And I’m cornering you at your apartment. Your den. Your safe place. Fuck me, I’m completely fucking it up. I always fuck this shit up. I’m sorry. I should just…” 

There was silence, which was a rare occurrence where Stiles was concerned. Derek was just waiting for Stiles to make up his mind. If Stiles was really, actually interested… 

Also, the petty part of him wanted Stiles to be embarrassed a bit more. Because Derek had been on the vulnerable side of this until now, so seeing the tables turn was satisfying, in a way. 

“Look,” Stiles started to smell more and more of defeat, “you probably sensed by now that I’m into you. It’s true, I am. I was hoping it was mutual. But even if it isn’t… I want to spend time with you, no money involved. Because I like you. As a person. You’re an asshole, and you’re funny, and smart, and you don’t give a shit if I ramble for hours on end because for some reason you like it when I talk. Do you even realize how fucking rare that is? That never happens to me.” 

It was about as rare as people who actually got close to Derek, physically or mentally. As rare as someone who let him sit quietly, who didn’t force him to be someone he was not. Yes, Stiles enjoyed getting Derek out of his comfort zone, little by little, but he never actually wanted Derek to be someone else. He knew what Derek had done, and he didn’t hate him. 

Stiles was… singular.  

“Can I kiss you?” He had to ask first - just had to.  

“I don’t know,  _ can _ you?” 

A singular pain in his ass. 

He made sure that Stiles could see the ensuing eye roll very clearly, even as Derek dragged him inside the house. There was no way his voyeuristic neighbor was going to see any of this - she could speculate all she liked about his attachment to Stiles, but this was a private moment. Just like most of their other moments. 

“Gotta say,” Stiles just had to get another barb in, “I am super into the manhandling. I know that’s super unprofessional of me, but I’m not on the clock anymore.” 

The punchline to that particular tease was softened by Stiles tangling their fingers together as they made their way to the couch. Because this had to happen on the couch, Derek had decided. It was a full circle thing. 

Within seconds of sitting down, Stiles was reaching for him, all pent-up energy. And Derek knew he was an asshole, so instead of letting Stiles move from 0 to 60 in like half a second, he cupped Stiles’ cheek in one hand. His thumb gently stroked the skin near Stiles’ ear, and he slowly leaned in, making Stiles wait for it. 

“Derek,” Stiles was the one growling now. 

That was hot. Still, Derek stuck to his guns and slowly pressed his lips to Stiles’, an almost chaste peck just to see, to test the waters. 

Stiles chased his mouth, and Derek grinned before diving in for another kiss, this one less controlled and much less chaste. He explored, learning Stiles’ taste and drowning himself in the scent of Stiles’ arousal - for him, all for him. 

All too soon he needed a second to breathe. He hadn’t done this in so long, and he couldn’t just jump into it. He didn’t want this to be something he regretted. He didn’t want this to be something Stiles would regret. 

“You’re good at that,” Stiles was breathing harder, heart rate all over the place. “And don’t say I know, or I will…” 

When Stiles couldn’t think of a valid threat, Derek had to kiss him again, even with the threat of getting carried away. 

“I’m not quitting my job,” Stiles broke the kiss. 

“Good.” He nodded to emphasize the point. 

“You have such a way with words, sour guy,” the impish look on Stiles’ face meant that he was up to no good. “Sourwolf! That’s it. Sourwolf!” 

Stiles and Laura could never meet. He didn’t even want to imagine the kind of plotting that would ensue, and the way they’d absolutely gang up on him. 

The world was not prepared for that. 

“Get out.” 

“Nope,” Stiles leaned in for another kiss. “You like me, you really like me. I might never leave again.” 

Good. 


End file.
